


Late nights, early mornings

by hentaihorseface



Series: Oh, baby [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cravings, Domestic Fluff, Fights, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 18:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hentaihorseface/pseuds/hentaihorseface
Summary: It's two in the morning and Yuri just wants a damn cheeseburger.





	Late nights, early mornings

“Beka…”

“Mmmm…?”

“Beka, wake up.”

“Wha… what time is it?”

Yuri purses his lips, but continues to softly, yet urgently jostle Otabek by the bicep. There are more much more important matters to worry about than a little thing like the _time_.

“Beka, _please_ …”

Otabek finally groans and rolls over to face Yuri, an arm flung over one eye as the other seeks out the digital alarm clock on the side table, just past the bulge of Yuri’s six-and-half-month pregnant belly.

“Yura…”

“Beka…”

“It’s two in the morning…”

“I _know_ , but—”

Otabek cuts him off with a sharp sigh, thumbs going to massage his temples.

“Babe… you promised me no more middle-of-the-night snack runs.”

Yuri huffs, folding his arms atop of his belly in defiance.

“I can’t exactly _help_ it—”

Otabek clucks his tongue and Yuri really doesn’t think he appreciates the sound of it. Before he can vocalize that thought, Otabek cuts in again.

“I know. Yura, I _know_. It’s just—I _also_ know you know I have to be up for practice at five—”

Yuri splutters indignantly. “Yeah, well, you went to bed at like _nine_ last night—”

“—and this is the _third time_ this week—”

Yuri scoffs as Otabek rails on, voice increasing in speed and volume.

“And I seriously can’t help but think you’re just doing this on _purpose_ to test my patience at this point!”

The air stales in the ensuing silence, Yuri biting his lip to quell the impending outburst.

Yuri briefly catches Otabek side eyeing him, frozen in horror as Yuri’s lip trembles and small whine escapes, inevitably bubbling over into a broken wail.

“Yura!” Otabek cries, clearly exasperated, as Yuri’s sobs grow more forceful.

“Yuri, shhh, you’re going to wake the neighbors up again—”

“Is _that_ all you care about?” Yuri whines through big, fat, theatrical tears that he honestly can’t really help, but isn’t really trying to hold back.

“ _Of_ _course_ not, Yurachka, it’s just—”

“When your pregnant _as fuck_ mate is right next to you, fucking _starving_ and in a hormonal rampage no thanks to _you_ ,” Yuri sneers through hiccupping sobs and judging by the way Otabek draws in a tight breath he knows he’s pushing his mate to his wit’s end, but once he gets this wound up this tight he can’t stop until he— 

“Come _on_ , Yuri! You can’t just _cry_ me into getting you McDonald’s at fuck-all-o’clock in the morning _every fucking time_ you _—_!”

 

_—snaps—_

 

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING STOP!”

Yuri is gasping ragged breaths by the time he’s done, and one glance at Otabek tells him he’s really gone too far this time.

“Yuri…” Otabek breathes, features twisted into something in between concern and shock.

Great. As if he needed another outburst to add to the stockpile of reasons for Otabek to leave him before the pup’s even born. Yuri wouldn’t even blame him at this point.

“Yura, relax,” Otabek says, barely a whisper, and it isn’t until his hand is hovering cautiously over Yuri’s own that he realizes he’s shaking.

Before his brain can catch up with his actions, Yuri’s pulling away his hand as if its been burnt.

“Don’t touch me,” Yuri rasps back belatedly.

He needs to get away from here. Yuri shuffles to his left so that his feet are off the side of the bed. He uses the side table to hoist himself up, breathing deep for a few moments to steady himself. 

Otabek doesn’t say a word as Yuri slips out the door.

 

*

 

Yuri sits cross-legged on the couch, staring into the black of the television screen as he works slowly on his next spoonful of peanut butter. He strokes absent-mindedly at the bulgiest part of his tummy where his spawn has been kicking up a storm for the better part of the last hour, clearly an act of spite for waking her up in the middle of the night.

Tears are rolling silently down his cheeks when Otabek rounds the corner, softly knocking at the partition between the hallway and the living room. Yuri sniffles and makes quick work of brushing the tear tracks away.

“Hey,” comes Otabek’s voice, soft and cautious.

“Hey,” comes Yuri’s response around the mouthful of peanut butter he’s still working on.

“Can we talk?” Otabek ventures a little further into the room. Yuri tenses up, because when is the phrase ‘can we talk’ ever indicative of anything good? Still, Otabek’s never been that sensitive to layered meanings and Yuri nods ‘yes’ anyway, scooting towards the far end of the couch so that Otabek can take a seat a safe distance away.

Yuri is still staring into the empty television when Otabek sits down, legs spread wide enough to touch the edge of Yuri’s pinky toe that’s hanging off of the couch. He draws back instinctively, but sighs when he earns a vaguely hurt expression from Otabek in his peripheral.

“You know I don’t hate you…” Yuri starts lamely, letting the sentence hang in the air before he’s interrupted by a sharp kick to his bladder. “Ow, fuck.”

“I know. Is she keeping you up?” Otabek tentatively reaches out towards where Yuri is kneading at his belly, hand hovering and eyes questioning.

Yuri shoots him a guarded look, but it melts down quickly. He’s too tired to keep up the act and his wrist is cramping anyways. He grabs Otabek’s hand and guides it towards where the baby is kicking.

Otabek huffs what counts as a small laugh for him as he takes over the gentle massage.

“Feels like she’s kickboxing your guts.”

Yuri grimaces. “Yeah. Payback for waking her up I guess…”

Otabek hums noncommittally as they lapse into a silence that’s not exactly tense, but is slightly weighted on top of the exhaustion that’s clearly settling over them both.

Yuri’s the first to give into the exhaustion and follows his instinct, setting the thoroughly licked spoon down on the coffee table sothat he can slide back into Otabek’s chest. Otabek accommodates him easily, shifting so that his back is against the armrest and one leg is behind Yuri. Yuri adjusts so that he’s lying sideways on top of him. He noses at Otabek’s neck, relaxing at the familiar scent.

Otabek’s other hand snakes around to stroke at Yuri’s elbow, thumbing tenderly at the skin there as his other hand continues to massage just below his bellybutton.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” Otabek sighs into Yuri’s hair, before pressing a long, sweet kiss into the crown of his head.

Yuri tenses up at the admission, and it’s not long after that his face is scrunching up in a sniffle that he tries to suppress — which unfortunately, just leads to _more_ tears leaking from his eyes.

“ _Fuck_!” Yuri whispers through a hiccupping little sob, hiding his face in the crook of Otabek’s neck while gripping helplessly onto the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt.

“Shhhh,” Otabek breathes into his hair, nosing along his scalp and peppering the occasional kiss there. “It’s okay, Yura.”

“Ugh!” Yuri beats a fist half-heartedly into Otabek’s chest once he’s gained control of his breath. “It’s _not,_ though, Beka! _I’m_ the one who should be sorry. I know I’ve been a fucking pain in the ass—for _months_ now. I _know_ I’m doing it, but I can’t stop, and I—” he chokes on a small sob before forcing through his tears, “I feel like I’m pushing you away,” Yuri sniffles, voice small and fragile.

“Yuri…”

Otabek sighs and for a split-second Yuri is genuinely anxious that he’s simply going to agree. Instead, Otabek lifts his hand from Yuri’s belly to tilt his chin up so they can lock eyes. Yuri knows his own eyes must be gross and puffy and bloodshot, so he quickly lifts a hand to cover them.

“ _Yuri_ …” Otabek sighs again, this time with a hint of laughter behind his tone that convinces Yuri to let his boyfriend gently remove the hand over his eyes.

Yuri sends an exaggerated pout in Otabek’s direction as his mate thumbs gently at the tear tracks he can feel starting to stick to his skin.

Otabek smiles softly in return, that rare, dope-y lovesick one that would leave Yuri weak at the knees if he weren’t already lying down.

“I don’t know if you realized it yet, but you’re _pregnant_ , kotik.”

Yuri rolls his eyes and huffs at that, but Otabek just presses a kiss to his hairline before continuing, “Cravings, hormones… temper tantrums...” Otabek pauses meaningfully and _smirks_ , the bastard, “They’re all part of the experience. And besides, if you being an ‘asshole’ is what was supposed to drive me away, I think that would’ve happened a _long_ time ago.”

Yuri’s mouth drops open at that and he has _every_ intention of verbally chewing his mate out, except he really can’t help the way his mouth twists into a grin on its own accord.

“You are a fucking _dick_!” Yuri manages between disbelieving laughter, slapping Otabek hard enough on the chest that his breath gets knocked out of him.

“If you’re the asshole and I’m the dick, we fit together _perfectly_ —,” Otabek positively _leers_ before leaning down and blowing a raspberry into the crook of Yuri’s neck.

“ _Gross_!” Yuri cries out, giggling as Otabek assaults his neck, raspberries devolving into a deep chuckle that vibrates against Yuri in a way that causes a shiver up his spine…

… and an attention-starved baby to make her presence known once more.

“Ow, okay, ok _ay_ , Beka, stop— she— _oh_ …”

Otabek detaches himself from Yuri’s neck instantly, peering down as Yuri clutches at the round of his stomach.

“Yuri?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just gimme a minute—” Yuri bites out, palming at the spot where he’s cramping up.

Otabek’s hand joins him as the pain starts to subside.

“Just two more months,” Otabek sighs, gently stroking over Yuri’s bellybutton. His eyes flutter closed and he sinks deeper into the couch, pulling Yuri more firmly against his chest.

“Try two and a _half_. Don’t try to pretend those last two weeks aren’t going to be _hell_ … I already feel fucking huge. If I can’t walk, you’re gonna have to carry me everywhere,” Yuri yawns, snuggling into Otabek’s chest as his own eyelids grow heavy with fatigue.

He feels Otabek scoff from the rise of his chest against his cheek but before his mate can get a word in, Yuri continues, “Also, you owe me a McDonald’s breakfast if I wake up with a fucked up back from sleeping like this.”

“Brat,” Otabek whispers behind a short laugh and Yuri smirks against his collarbone in return.

“You love me.”

“I do,” Otabek replies, and Yuri can feel him smiling lazily against his hair.

The next morning, Yuri smiles as he wakes up to the smell of egg McMuffins and hash browns.

“I figured it was better not to risk it,” Otabek is leaning smugly against the kitchen counter and ready to explain when Yuri cracks an eye open.

“I love you _so much_ ,” Yuri groans dramatically before burying his face into one of the throw pillows.

“I know,” Otabek responds with a laugh.

And even though Yuri’s back _does_ kind of have a crick in it, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything – even for a two in the morning food-run.

 

 


End file.
